Need some inspiration.
A lot more focus.

I m kinda lost.

Aal is... err .. not well

I am not sure how I have let myself get so scared of something in 4 days. The realization at the end of every day that I survived for one more day is marred by next day's looming overshadow.

I am messing up some real important stuff.

I need someone to tell me that it will be over and I ll overcome this one too and safely.

This is not good for general well being and happiness.

Metaphorical Kataap.

~<0>~

Story : There was a boy. Whatever he wanted, got screwed up. The slightest of hint expectation was enough to bring it all down. The boy was pissed.

~<0>~

Ok. Whatever was that Geeta Shloka about not having expectations, it is screwing my life big time. Anything I raise my hopes about, start looking forward to, want, need gets screwed up big time.

The only day I did not put my hopes up for a thing, it actually worked out well. I know, you can see a big learning in here, but I have like had it. Every other time I am left nursing my broken heart. You know why did I not put up my hopes up, coz I was not very excited about the thing. So, over the years, as I have observed my life I have to either not expect anything or lower my standards and accept whatever comes my way.

Am I supposed to live without ever aspiring anything. If not, then for how long do I have to go through this emotional grind. How is a person supposed to live and not want things, isn't this what makes us different from tables and chairs.

~<0>~

The last post has become a moot point now.

~<0>~

Here's a joke

~<0>~

Girl : I hate you. Get lost. I dont wanna talk to you. This relationship is over.
Boy : What happened. I love you. I havent cheated on you. Been totally faithful.
Girl : Shut up. I cant be with you... YOU DID NOT LIKE MY STATUS ON FACEBOOK.

~<0>~

Something very similar happened to me. Not the exact same thing but very very similar.

~<0>~

Jokes happen to you sometime. You cant always laugh at them. Sometimes life teaches you lessons the funny way. I learned mine.

~<0>~

Heart or the Mind

~<0>~

Last 3 days went by like a storm. Busy Busy and Busy.

But this has sown some very important questions in my mind. In fact Mind or Heart is the big question here. Also your past mistakes come and bite you always and now they bit me on my ass. I feel stupid stupid stupid and this is all because of the bloody heart. Problem is that I am not sure whether following my mind will lead me to my aim this time.

There are some other questions but they might get answered if I am able to solve the above problem correctly.

I hate important questions. I hate the important questions, the answers to which you can only know after 2 years and your opinion of their importance may change with the benefit of hindsight.

~<0>~

I love the phrase 'benefit of hindsight'. It is one of those phrases which I feel are like so... apt. You see you can only have benefit of hindsight. You can never not-learn from a past experience, except if you are too stupid.

But stupidity is not really in ones hands. It is either in your Heart or your Mind.

~<0>~

The age of secrets has come big time. A friend of mine told me something very important few days after the thing happened. Few years ago this was out of question.

I understand his reasons of not telling very well and also identify with them at a level. Just that it has now set an example. Ab se koi kisi ko kuch nahi batayega.

Also I was not telling people stuff badi pahle se, so I am ok with the age of secrets.

~<0>~

I am playing a game with some people :P I may lose and it will feel bad like crazy but for now its game on guys. There are lot of factors but only two outcomes.

~<0>~

I hate people. Still.

~<0>~

I almost wrote a poem yesterday. I was called for a meeting.

~<0>~

The Wooden Cigarette

In spite of all the rants going on about global warming it had been a cold winter in his city. It had been raining incessantly since morning and a snowstorm was predicted. The radiator in his almost empty office, most people had taken off due to bad weather, could barely keep his teeth from chattering. Time and again the sound of the blizzard against the windows would scare him a little and break his concentration. He was finally happy that the dark gloomy day had come to an end and it was time to go home. He was already thinking about the cozy interiors of his two bedroom home in which he used to live alone. Few sips of scotch before going to sleep would be perfect, he mused.

He came out of office fully packed in an overcoat, muffler and a knit cap. It had stopped raining but the cold and the dampness hit him hard and he decided to take a cab till 5th street from where he would walk a short distance to his home and not completely skip the only exercise he used to indulge in. He hollered a cab and shouted 5th street at the driver without even getting inside completely. The cabbie seemed to be in an even greater hurry and stepped on the gas as soon as he got the signal.

The interior of the cab was much warmer than the freezing cold outside but instinctively he put his hands in his coat pockets. His fingers touched a long slender object. It was a wooden dummy cigarette which doctors suggested to patients who were trying to quit cigarettes. He had been recently diagnosed with a mild respiratory problem and the doctor had asked him to give up on one of his most loved things, real cigarettes packed with the real tobacco. The doctor had advised him to buy one of these wooden lookalikes, just to keep something in the fingers when one has nothing else to do. Out of habit he put the wooden cigarette to his lips, took a long puff and released a large amount of imaginary smoke. The cabbie came up with 10 clever remarks but kept them to himself as he saw color return to the old man's cheeks. The wooden cigarette did work sometimes.

The cab reached 5th street and as he was about to get off after paying the fare, the cabbie offered him a real cigarette and some matches. It was an act of pity. To avoid the hassle of protesting he took them and put them in his pocket. He started his walk home lost in his thoughts when his reverie was broken by a large drop of chilling cold water on his nose and he saw people running about everywhere looking for shelter. The rain now was worse than it had been all day. He himself just made it to a tin sheet extension of the roof of a closed grocery shop. A lady and a little girl of 6 or 7 also came running under the same tin roof. He tried to not notice and avoid unnecessary conversation. His hands inadvertently went inside his pockets but this time they felt the real cigarette. He remembered the cabbie. He smiled at his badluck. He was trying to quit and people he did not even know were offering him cigarettes. All his hard work and discipline had now come to this. A cold unforgiving winter night and a cigarette in his hands. He contemplated and re-contemplated. He repeated to himself that it would be just this one last cigarette tonight, to keep him alive in this godforsaken weather. He was done with all the chain smoking he had to do. "If you start again after quitting, its your first cigarette all over again and its easiest to quit after the first one", he remembered the dialogue from a wisdom movie, as he liked to call the movies where there was no story but people talking about random stuff like coffee, truth, lies, sex, life, cigarettes. No story but people talking about life... cigarettes.

He thought hard but in the end put the cigarette to his lips and lit it with matches the cabbie had given him. How thoughtful of him to give me the matches too, he thought. He took the first puff and then the second and then the third. Ohhhhh... how he had missed the feeling of hot smoke going right through him. The nicotine refreshing his nerves and bringing that alertness in his eyes. He was filled with a rare feeling only smokers can experience, contentment. He smiled. His chain of thoughts was broken by a sound. The little girl standing under the tin had started coughing and was looking at him accusingly. He looked at the remaining cigarette in his hand and cursed in his mind. Children, how he hated them, always taking away the fun out of life. He stubbed the cigarette with his boot and walked into the rain.

He thought about his own daughter who had left him years ago. He needed to be alone that night. He put his hands in his pockets and pulled out the wooden cigarette once again. He took one last puff out of it and threw it away.

~<0>~

I am not much pleased with the title.

~<0>~

Its here and I am kinda worried.

Praying...

Take Me Along

~<0>~

leave back all the fights and sudden rages
throw all the bad memories away
looks like we are at the start again
oh baby c'mon lead the way

the words that were never spoken
are still hanging in the air
wrap them away in a simple song
tie them with a thread of care

your mama's favorite dishes
have been safely bubble-wrapped
all your books and the fancy paintings
have been nicely strapped

in the new house you are moving
we ll together make a home
so just take me along
where ever you go

~<0>~

A song attempted long time back when a friend was moving to a new place, posted today :- by the boy who hasn't studied for past two days :/

~<0>~

What is the biggest mistake a story writer can do? Its not the punctuation and its not the grammar. Word processors take care of stuff like that. Its not the cowardliness and the lack of imagination shown by being inspired from his own life. It is creating a character so convincing that he starts believing that the character is real. Making a real person out of pen and paper; sketching a life out of smoke rings and whiskey. Believing in what is not and all the while neglecting and denying what the reality is. The biggest mistake a writer can do is fall in love with the person who does not even exist in the same universe as he.

But how can he stop himself? The resistance is futile. Whole of his day is spent in dreaming about her. In picturing her roam around her house. Taking care of the smallest of things. He sees her going to her job and trying to do her best in something she does not relate to. He imagines her preparing her dinner and smokes with her when she lights her cigarette before going to bed. The temptation to kiss her when she lies down on the couch is irresistible. When she finally retires for the day he looks at her peaceful face and smiles. She is beautiful and he pines for her touch. He can not kiss her, he can not make love to her and he can not say it to her that he loves her. He knows that it wont matter. He knows her destiny is being charted on the next page. He knows that she can not stay with him and he can not stay with her. The story has to end. Happily for her but always and always sadly for him.

A barrier must be maintained. Dreams should not be mingled with reality and reality should be kept as far away as possible from the unreal.

Feeling Shit

I am so so so down today and this time I am really really sure that there is no reason behind it too.

I am feeling very hollow, the kind of hollow which cant be filled by reading a book or listening to a song. Liquor just increases this shit feeling and there is no one I could sit and have a drink with.

Maybe my mind is finally getting sick of not doing anything about my life and is also sure that nothing substantial is gonna come out of it. 

Fuck.. I dont even know what I should wish for to end this.

The Name is Blonde...

Each day we fall a little lower. Slow death.

Sapne Sach Hote Hain

Ek din sapne mien wat lag gayi.

Agle din ho gaya sach mien and obviously fir se wat lag gayi.

WTF.

And i officially HATE this blog now.

~<0>~

Fuck off dumb Alice.

Aww Crap

Reading horoscope on a Sunday morning was never such a heart break.
I am so convinced that knowing future sucks.

and also happy friendship day everyone. Blah Blah Blah.
Some of you are good and some of you are just right of the top fantastic.
I hate some of you but its alright, coz friends do that, i guess.

Thoda sach aur...

There is this thing about being in love with you which I completely and absolutely hate. Its not the part where you don't know I love you. Its not even the part where I know I cant have you, even for a tiny winy time in my life.
Its the part where after some days i get to know this little fact about you and then I just cant believe that what a stupid idiot I was in believing otherwise. The best part is that you don't lie to me. I can't blame you even a little for this rip-your-chest-and-crush-your-heart state I get myself into every time. Its only my naivete that leads me to believe in something, which is mostly the way i want the things to be. Why? Why? Why?

Goddammitt Why?

Deep down my heart I was afraid that this would happen and deep down my heart i was wishing for this day to not happen this time. But, I don't know why and how and for what fucking god damn reason, by evening I had myself convinced that all my fears were baseless and my worries without reason.

Why did I not think of it earlier? It has happened before also. How could I even hope that you wont do it again? Bloody hell !!! everything is falling into place now. I can see at least some of the steps.

See, You are You and I forget that every time. It had to happen and it did. Only problem, I got to know of it today and out of my own stupid doing.

I hate you... because you were there.

Kab sudhroge?
Kab bakshoge?
Kab nikloge mere sar se bahar?
Fuck Fuck Fuck

I want to leave this place.
Bahut ho gaya.
Bas !

When Shit hits the Roof

I can right now think of so many different permutations and combinations of fuck and shit. The First one is fuckinshit. You can figure out the rest as homework.

I need to improve my concentration... where is Hitler baba? I need to be in his camps.